


Finding Home

by MizuLeKitten



Series: Of Blood and Memories [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 'Cubi have both type of genitalia, 'Cubus Allura, 'Cubus Keith, (at first), Accidentally Serial Killer Keith, Allura/Shiro - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Bonding, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Daddy Kink, Dark Past, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dubious Time Period, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enabler Allura and Romelle, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gore, Human Dissection, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Keith is fascinated by elevators, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Murder, Murder Husbands, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Violence, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Serial killer Shiro, Supportive Found Family, The Family That Kills Together Stays Together, Torture, Trauma, Unhealthy Hobbies, Unhealthy Obsessions, Violence, Voyeurism, and, ask to tag, eventually, is it really either if they're demons?, lowkey stalking on several peoples accounts, none of them actually mind, of which include, please read the tags, sexual fantasies, they have elevators but they don't have lights - I don't know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-21 14:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15559470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizuLeKitten/pseuds/MizuLeKitten
Summary: Keith ripped into the flesh like paper. It gave away easily under his claws as he dug for his prize. He could smell it, the vitality. It was so close, ripe for the taking. The fool had been dumb enough to enter despite the lock on the door. He deserved this death.Blood soaked into the wooden floor as it pooled around them. It was a beautiful crimson that had Keith salvating. If he could just rip the damn ribcage from his prey's chest- Ah ha! The bones crunched in his grip, finally breaking so that he could pull them apart.He sunk his hand in, feeling around for his prize. The heart, vitality. He ripped it from the man's chest, not wasting a breath before sinking his teeth into the rich substance. Perfect.Keith blinked and groaned. His head was pounding in time with the rain outside. It felt like he had been run over by a horse... His eyes flashed open. No. No, not again.





	1. Stormy Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. While I can happily say that, subjectively, it's a really fluffy fic once we get into it because they all support and love each other SO much - they do a lot of fucked up things. While a lot of it isn't always going to be front and center, it's more or less always there.
> 
> A big thanks to [Philemal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philemal) for screaming back and forth with me about this au, and being the rightful other half to it because of that. (She's amazing, you should check out her writing.)

Shirogane Castle was an enigma of its time. Despite the people running the castle being a simple Baron and Baroness, everyone, from the Capital to the distant shores, knew at least  _ something  _ of the people who inhabited the building. They were known for being unconventional, pioneers of their time. Their people adored them, and they rarely ran into problems within their keep despite the problems they invited. Most nobles' doors were closed to the common folk, shunning them away to dark alleyways and broken homes, but not the Shiroganes’. They had made it their mission to help all those in need, even those not from their lands. Their castle doors were open to peasants, travelers, and the like. One could find a bed and hot meal within those walls, for no cost.

The stories of the Baron and Baroness ran deeper than their charity. The Baroness was a ruthless diplomat. She could settle the harshest of issues between the worst of enemies within a few days time. She had used that skill to benefit her people and her land drastically. Many flourished under her rulings, and those who didn't could easily rely on the castle's open doors to get back on their feet. It was admirable; not many women were able to accomplish such things, gendered roles of society and the like.

It only went to show the good qualities of the Baron, people claimed. He trusted his wife to do good in her work, and thus could focus on his own. The rumors surrounding him were that of a caring, beautiful man. He was the one who insisted on opening the castle up, on hosting events, on visiting towns. He was the one who marketed to the people and made them feel  _ heard _ . He was the perfect man, or so it was said.

Keith didn't trust it for a minute.

Nobles never did anything that didn't benefit themselves in some way, and while the Baroness's work benefited all, there were  _ no _ benefits of opening the castle up the way they did. It was a drain on resources, it was inviting filth. He knew that first hand, it had been spit in his face by a noble during his travels. The bastard nearly ran him over, blamed him for the delay. Nobles were horrid creatures, barely human, but... then again, Keith wasn’t one to talk.

Regardless of his feelings about the state of the castle, he was desperate. The rain had rolled in several days ago; he had been forced out of home not long after. He had no time to wait for better weather, no time to think of a plan of action. All he could do was set out in the midst of the downpour and pray it let up.

It hadn't.

Keith was soaked down to the core, his clothes permanently stuck to his frame. He was grateful that summer was still holding out, that autumn had yet to truly begin to nip at its heels. The warmth kept him from freezing outright, a luxury that would soon be gone.

That being said, Keith had been walking for two days now, going on his third night. His body ached from overexertion, a comforting ache considering what he had just escaped. A warm,  _ dry _ place sounded amazing, especially if he was given the chance to rest. It never got easier, running from his transgressions. He only prayed that he'd be able to rest long enough to run again.

With a sigh, he hiked his soaked bag higher up his back. The water did little to lighten his load, but soon,  _ soon _ , he'd be able to sit down. Maybe even have time to let his things fully dry. As of now, all he knew was the dripping of water down his face and back. It made walking up to the castle easier - there was no reason to avoid large puddles when one was already drenched to the bone.

He paused before the doors - solid oak with intricate designs carved into them. It was simply another show of wealth. Even if the Baron and Baroness were kind, they were still wealthy, and that changed a person's entire viewpoint of the world. It pissed him off. People like him had to fight tooth and nail for what they had, and more often than not they  _ still _ lost in the end.

He pulled the knocker back and let it fall - the noise resounded around him like thunder.

Rain continued to cascade around him as he waited for someone to respond to his call. He flicked a bit of hair out of his face. It was late. He doubted anyone would be awake at such a time. Who would expect visitors during a rainstorm in the middle of the night? No one would be walking around in that; they'd be walking blind. Unless you were Keith. He glanced back over the path he had walked up, clearly noting the puddles that he had trudged through. There were shrubberies off to the side, no doubt colorful in the day, but not even his advanced vision could make out the exact hues now.

He was simply out of luck it seemed. He took a step back, intent on finding a potential overhang to sit under until day broke, when the door opened to reveal a mustached man. He was clad in his night clothes, including a night cap drooping over in front of his face. He yawned, mouth opening wider than humanly possible (as if Keith was a judge of that) before smacking his lips a few times. He peered out the door, nothing but the fire in his lantern illuminating the path.

Keith took a step forward, back into the light, and the man jolted. "My boy! What are you doing out in such weather! And so late at night?" he pushed the door open wider, moving to the side so that Keith could enter.

"Traveling," Keith responded as he stepped in. His boots squelched against the dry stone. He made sure to avoid the carpet; there was no point in him getting everything else wet.

"And what a time to travel you chose," the man shook his head, closing the door with a huff. "I assume you wish to stay the night?"

"I'd rather not go back out into the storm," he replied dryly. "I already look like a mess; I don't need more rain adding to it."

The man let out a booming laugh - how could someone be so peppy when he was woken up only moments ago? "Fair enough! The name's Coran," he said as he began to walk down the hall, gesturing for Keith to follow. "I handle the servants of the castle, but if you ever require anything during your stay, my office is always open."

Keith hummed, barely listening to what Coran was saying. He was more intent on memorizing the route they were taking. It'd be vital to know his way out in case he had to make a hasty exit. His boots caught on the carpet, and he nearly face planted to the ground. The fire from the lantern made its color strike out in stark detail. Red, the carpet was red. Like blood.

Blood.

An ache in his bones, a fire in his heart, warmth exploding in his mouth as he bit down into flesh, the screams of a man he had called his friend-

"My boy?" Coran had stopped a few paces ahead, turning back to regard him.

Keith gulped, "Sorry, Coran."

Coran watched him a moment longer before resuming walking, Keith following like before.

The screams still echoed through his mind, through the halls.  _ Stop it _ . He mentally shook himself. The castle wasn't a murder den. It was a place that took people in. Even if he distrusted that, nobles didn't like getting their hands  _ that _ dirty. Undermining people and letting their lands fall apart, sure, but actively bringing them into their home to kill them? No. That was Keith's unfortunate thing.

The water dripping down his back felt too much like the blood that had sprayed over his face as he ripped into flesh. His soaked clothes weren't from the rain, but from the blood of- Keep. Walking.

He took a stuttering breath, continuing to follow Coran down twists and turns. It was behind him now. He had fled, escaped. He wasn't at the scene of his crime, he was here. In a castle. Checking into a room, and staying for the night. He'd recharge, get a warm meal in his belly and dry clothes on his back, and keep going. Keep going until the blood stained ground was left behind him (it never stayed behind him for long).

Coran stopped outside a door with a little wooden mustache hanging from a nail. It had to be Coran's office, a thought proven right when Coran took a ring of keys from his pocket. "We'll sign you on in, and get you to your room lickety split." He entered the room and moved towards the desk at the center of the room. There were chairs situated across from the desk, but Keith didn't sit. He'd ruin the furniture, and the last thing he needed was a noble on his ass about paying for the damages. He didn't care how "great" the Baron and Baroness were, there was something that would reveal their ugly nature, and he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Let's see..." Coran shuffled through the desk, letting out a triumphant "Ah ha!" as he pulled out a notebook. "Here we go. Room... 203 has an open spot. You'll have a roommate, but such is the life of free living space." He smiled at Keith from across the desk, "Now, what's your name?"

He looked Coran over, not trusting the intent behind the question. Why should he have to give his name? He wasn't going to be staying here long, there was no point in people learning such details.

"It's simply for our bookkeeping. That way we can keep track of how often our regulars come and go. Helps us try and stabilize those who come and go often."

Keith crossed his arms as lightning flashed outside the window. He didn't want to give his name - he wouldn't be coming back once he left. A thunderclap followed the flash of lightning, shaking deep within his bones. It wasn't as if he could go back out into the storm... "Keith."

"Keith?"

He spun on his heel, knife sliding free of its sheath easily. He thrust the dagger upwards, towards where the voice came from. His snarl died in his throat as he made eye contact with the man before him.

And boy was he a man...

He had a jaw chiseled from stone, the slightest hint of stubble making him look downright sinful. His shoulders were broad, perfect for clinging to while in the throes of passion. The scar on his nose, illuminated by the flickering lantern swaying by the man's side, was far more attractive then it had a right to be. He couldn't help but wonder how he got it.

Keith didn't even have to look down to know he had a knife pointed at a walking wall of pure muscle and power. He had a knife pointed at him. A knife.  _ Shit _ . He hastily dropped his stance, nearly losing his grip on his knife as he sheathed it.

"S-Sorry," Keith looked away, but not before seeing two rows of pearly whites as the man smiled at him.

"No need; I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Even his  _ voice  _ was sinful… Reign it in, Keith, reign it in.

Coran tsked as he walked over to the two of them, "Now, Lord Shiro, what are you doing up at such an hour? It's bad enough having one person out and about," no doubt referring to Keith, "and to have you as well?"

Oh. Oh no. Keith looked up from underneath his lashes at the man, at the  _ Baron _ .

"Sorry, Coran. Couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk. I saw the lantern light and came to see what was happening at, like you said, such an hour." The Baron looked back at him with a smile, the flickering of the lantern making it far more ominous than Keith would've liked. "I'm glad I did."

His first instinct was to look anywhere else in the room, to shy away from him, but Keith had never shied away from anything in his life. He forced himself up taller, ignoring the prickling sensation at the back of his neck. It was like being watched by a hunter.

Keith was no prey.

"I didn't think nobility got insomnia," the quip was out before he could stop himself. Coran looked at him in horror, but the Baron's smile only grew.

"My apologies," Coran interrupted, maybe trying to save Keith from his suffering, or maybe to save his Baron. Keith didn’t know, he didn’t care, "Keith, this is Lord Shirogane, the baron of our castle and the man  _ graciously  _ opening his doors to allow you to stay."

"Does he want an award?"

Coran flinched back as if hit, but the Baron simply laughed, deep and perfect.

"I wouldn't say no to one, but it's unnecessary. I don't open my doors for prizes." He held his hand out, and god the man was pure muscle all over wasn't he? "I prefer to go by Shiro; Coran is a stickler for the rules."

"For good reason, my lord," Coran sniffed.

Keith eyed the hand offered to him, taking Shiro in with calculating eyes. He was hot, that much was obvious, but he was also the baron which meant that trust wasn’t a smart thing to give freely. He took Shiro's hand in his, returning the shake with as much power as Shiro gave. The other's eyes widened at that, and Keith couldn't help but smirk. Yeah, he was a lot stronger then he looked.

"Keith, just Keith."

"Well, Just Keith, I believe you're checking in for the night?"

"That's the plan."

"How long do you intend on staying?"

The night. "However long you'll have me."

"That could be a long time," he could swear Shiro's eyes were sparkling at the thought, "We're not known for kicking people out. Not even in winter, when we get more people, do we turn those in need away."

"Good news for me then."

Coran cleared his throat, and whatever tension had formed snapped as they both looked towards him. "I'm sorry, my lord, but I'm sure Keith would like to settle in for the night. I'd much rather avoid him getting sick from the cold."

The reminder of his state brought a shiver up his spine. Damn wet clothes.

Shiro glanced at him, "I'll handle it, Coran. Head back to bed."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure, Coran. Go. You deserve your rest."

Coran bowed, "As you wish." He moved back to his desk, grabbing the lantern and making his way passed them. The firelight disappeared down the hall, leaving them alone.

It was silent save the rain hitting the window outside. They were gazing at one another, neither breaking eye contact. Another strike of lightning illuminated the sky, flashing the room in bright light that lasted a second, that lasted a decade.

Shiro broke the silence first, "Shall we be off?" He motioned towards the door with his free hand, letting Keith go first.

"After you," his arms were crossed over his chest as he cocked his hip. He wasn't going to let someone he didn't know walk behind him.

Shiro watched him a moment longer before nodding his head. He walked threw the door, letting the lantern stay by his side. Keith followed him. He tried to stay a step behind, a step out of the way. After all, a step behind or in front could mean life or death, or maybe Keith was just paranoid. Regardless, he tried to, but he failed. Whenever he slowed, Shiro slowed. He stopped, and Shiro stopped with him. The other inclined his head towards him, as if he was confused why they had stopped, as if he wasn't aware of what was going on.

He was too tired to fight it, and started walking once more.

Lightning filled the hallways, and the crimson carpet drew Keith's attention again. His steps faltered; crimson like blood.

A hand reached out and steadied him. He glanced to the side to see Shiro looking at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

Keith snorted, no. He was not okay. He hadn't been okay since the day rivers spilled red on his family farm. Since his Ma's face looked up at him, twisted in horror as he-

He shuddered. "Cold."

Shiro nodded, slowly releasing his grip on Keith's arm only to put the lantern down. "It won't help much now, but..." Shiro began to unbutton his jacket, and Keith's thoughts screeched to a halt. The vest underneath was snug against Shiro's body, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

A warm weight settled on his shoulders, a warm, dry weight. Keith looked up at Shiro in confusion. Why was he being so nice? He was nobility, there was no reason to help some "traveler" that showed up on his doorstep, not by giving away his personal clothing.

"Why? "

"You're cold," and with that, Shiro picked up the lantern, and continued walking,  _ ahead _ of Keith.

He'd given up trying to memorize the hallways. He simply stared at Shiro's back as he followed, one step behind. He didn't understand this man. No one was this nice without an ulterior motive.

Keith's opinion didn't seem to matter as Shiro led him dutifully through the castle. They went up stairs, and turned down a winding maze that Keith couldn't hope to memorize. All the while, his eyes didn't stray from Shiro.

When Shiro stopped, Keith nearly ran into him.

"Here we are," he gestured to the door. It had a carving of a lion right in the center; Keith had read about them in books he had "borrowed" from the scribes in his hometown. The lion was impressive, but there was one thing missing…

"This isn't room 203." Shiro scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding his gaze. Keith couldn't help but narrow his eyes. "What's going on."

"I didn't want you to wake the others."

It was a bullshit excuse, and if Keith wasn't so tired he'd call him out on it. If Shiro tried anything, well, his knife wouldn't stop mere centimeters away from its target this time.

He pushed open the door, walking into the room.

"Where's the bed?"

The room was pretty, don't get him wrong. There was a couch and plush chairs centered around a coffee table in the middle of the room. A piano sat in one corner, near the windows. Plants were hung from the ceiling, and tucked into corners. Thinking back, the hallways had plenty of plants lining them as well; someone liked flora in this castle. That still didn't solve the number one problem.

"Shiro, there's no bed," he turned back to look at the man. What the hell was going on? Was this some sick joke? If Shiro's silent laughter was anything to go off of, then, yes, it was.

He crossed his arms, scowl etched into his features. He didn't come here to be laughed at by some pompous asshole, kindness and good looks be damned. He came here to get some decent rest before shipping out in the morning, and if Shiro was going to make that  _ difficult _ , he'd take his leave.

Shiro's smile quickly fell as he took in Keith's defensive posture. Good, the jerk could read body language. Maybe he could tell that he was mentally flipping him off.

"Sorry. Sorry, I-" he cleared his throat, "This is the sitting room. The bedroom is connected through the door to the left. There's a fully functioning bath attached to the bedroom that you can wash up in, if you want. It's stocked with towels, so you'll be able to dry off."

Part of Keith was tempted to walk through the door and slam it in Shiro's face. Another part of him, the part drilled into him by his Pa, had him loosening the tension in his body, arms falling to his side. He owed Shiro. Without his kindness he'd still be stuck outside, and considering the resounding thunder, it would not be a pleasant night.

"Thanks."

Shiro perked up at that, a smile gracing his lips once again, "It's my pleasure. If there's anything else I can help you with, don't be afraid to ask."

Keith doubted he would need anything else. He had a bed now, hiding in the other room, and a place to dry off before falling asleep. He didn't need anything besides that.

"I'll be fine," he walked towards the door, opening it and peering in. He couldn’t help but feel impressed by what he saw. How much money did rich people have?

"Do you need any light-"

"I'm fine," he restated. He glanced behind him one last time, expression softening of its own accord, "Thanks though."

He let the door shut behind him with a light click.

He leaned back against the door, sighing. He was tired. He had walked all day and talked too long. He was more than ready to sleep for an eternity. He looked around the room, begrudgingly impressed. The room was large, larger than anything Keith had ever stayed in before. He was pretty sure he could fit his family's old cabin into the room and still have some space to spare. The bed, too, was bigger than anything he'd ever slept in, with four posts that rose up towards the ceiling. The lion theme seemed to continue, as if this room and its furniture was commissioned by a carpenter with a single idea in mind.

He wasn’t surprised when he noticed more plants. The person getting paid to water them all had to be making a hefty sum. He turned to the desk set up against one of the walls. As he walked towards it he slung his bag off his shoulder. He might as well spread his things out to dry. For the most part, all he had was the bare necessities. He didn’t bother carrying souvenirs from all the places he had lived - there were too many to count .

There were only three things on his person that could be considered "personal." His knife, which was strapped to his side; his sketchbook, which was wrapped in a water skin to keep the rain from damaging its pages; and his locket, wrapped around his neck, a constant reminder of what he'd lost, what he  _ destroyed _ .

He set everything out, keeping his most prized possessions near him on the bedside table. He stripped out of his clothes, taking time to run to the bathroom (and even the bathroom was over the top!) and dry off before returning to the bed. He hesitated only for a second before wrapping himself up in Shiro's jacket. It was warm - that was what he told himself.

He crawled into the bed, eyes going wide as he sank into the mattress. It was so...  _ soft _ . He stretched out his aching muscles, relishing in the way the fabric felt against his skin. Was this silk? He didn’t know, but if he had any guesses it'd  _ have _ to be silk. Nothing else could be this soft. The blankets he was used to were scratchy and rough, but these- he had to be in heaven.

He let out a sigh, relaxing for the first time in days. Light flashed outside the windows next to his bed, and he turned to face them. They were floor length, large, and overlooked a garden that he could barely make out through the downpour.

His eyes were growing heavy. The sound of the rain was a lullaby to his ears, and it was pulling him under fast. He was comfortable, more comfortable then he'd been in years. He buried himself in the jacket. He felt a bit bad for not returning it, especially after the many ups and downs to their meeting. The smell was comforting, though. Red had been haunting his dreams since he fled three nights ago, but now the color was fading from his mind. He took a deep breath, letting sleep claim him. His pendant was heavy against his chest.


	2. Baroness at Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes up in a bed that's not his own, and faces his first morning in a nobles home. Things don't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted at least 2 updates out before s7, so after this, updates are going to go back to being on saturdays, but I needed this to be out before then.

Warmth. A mother's embrace. A father's smile. Secure. The roof over his head. The meal in his stomach. Safe. His dog at the door. The knife under his pillow.

Laughter.

Light.

A memory.

Keith slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the light pouring in from the window. He was warm, he was secure, he was safe, but he was not home. He would never return home again. His fingers rubbed against the pendant, tracing the engraved markings over and over again.

Day had broken while he slept, the rain clouds finally retreating for another time. That was good. As much as Keith wanted to bury back under the blankets, the warm, warm blankets, he knew he had to get up. He had to pack up, had to get a meal, and then be on his way.

He sat up, stretching his arms out with a yawn. The bed had been the best thing he'd ever slept in. When one was used to small, straw mattresses, whatever soft material this was was a blessing. It'd be a shame to leave it all behind, but he couldn't stay. His dreams had been pleasant that night, but he knew it was too good to remain true.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as the blankets fell off him. He drew the jacket closer to his chest, basking in the warmth, in the scent.

Wait. Jacket?

He looked down, face flushing as he took in his appearance. The jacket pooled over his lap. On Shiro, it had ended at his hips - on Keith, it ended at mid thigh. Heat pooled in his gut. Shiro wasn't _that_ much taller than he was... only a few inches, but it seemed like the other dwarfed him. He had been too cold, too tired, to realize all this at the time. Despite his better judgement, he snuggled further into the fabric. It felt nice against his skin, smelt like a mix of leather and Shiro and blood.

Breath left Keith in a wave. No. No, there was no blood. Shiro was a gentlemen, a noblemen, yes they were corrupt in some way, but murderers- Murdering was Keith's thing, whether he liked it or not. The blood was on his hands. He couldn't escape it. As much as he tried to run, he could _never_ escape it. It was his companion, his old friend. He hated it. And now he was pushing his... his _faults_ onto a man that had shown him nothing but kindness, even when he had drawn a knife on him.

Nobles were jerks, assholes, but Keith was the monster here.

The knock on the door was the last thing Keith expected that morning. He jumped, looking at the door. Who would come calling on him?

He stood up at the next knock, looking around the room for his clothes. He winced at the pile - there was no way any of those were dry. He needed underwear at least. Not because he was a prude, he didn't care, honestly speaking, but his body was... _He_ was…

Luckily he had set his extra set of clothes out on the table the night before. Small mercies in his fuck up of a life. He snatched the underwear from its spot, nearly toppling over as he rushed to put them on. "Com-Coming!" His back hit the wall as his foot got caught, and he scowled. Since when was putting _clothing_ on difficult?

With his underwear on, he stumbled to the door, pausing to straighten himself up. He was a mess and he knew it, hair tousled, a jacket too big for his body, and underwear barely peeking out from underneath it all. He took a deep breath, clutching his pendant for a moment before opening the door.

Shiro was there - holding a folded set of clothes in his hands. They looked... expensive, but if he got a free set of clothes out of this whole exchange (clothes that he can eventually sell) then he was not complaining.

"These for me?" He looked up at Shiro, but the other didn't respond. "Uh, Shiro?"

Shiro jolted back as if slapped, face flushing for no real reason Keith could discern. Was he sick?

"You okay?"

"Yes! Fine! Perfectly fine!" Keith nodded slowly at the exclamations, doubting its validity.

He tilted his head towards the clothes, "These mine?"

"Um, yes, for- because your clothes were soaked from the rain," he thrust the clothes towards Keith, looking off to the side.

He took them, rubbing his thumb over the fabric. Were all things owned by nobility so soft?

"Thanks," he smiled at Shiro. He was grateful, he really was.

Keith started to shut the door, but it was stopped by Shiro's foot. "I was- Do you want to join me for breakfast?"

"You and the Baroness?"

Shiro nodded, "Yes, both of us. Of course."

Keith didn't like the sound of that. Nobles didn't invite Keith places. They didn't do _anything_ with Keith. Then again - Shiro gave him a reassuring smile - Shiro wasn't like most nobles.

"Okay."

Shiro beamed, "I'll wait out here for you to get dressed."

Keith nodded slowly as the door shut, still unsure why exactly he agreed without asking questions, most notably, _why_. Why invite Keith anywhere? He's a nobody…

But it was too late. He had the clothes in hand and Shiro waiting outside his door.

Might as well go and see what happens.

~*~

The walk to the dining room was silent, but comfortable. Shiro didn't try and force Keith into making conversation, which he was grateful for. He didn't feel much like talking. He looked out the windows they passed, taking in the beautiful courtyard. Whenever they passed a servant, Shiro would smile at them, bidding them good morning as he went. Keith had always thought servants were supposed to remain hidden from the owners eyes, but the servants would beam back at Shiro, curtsying and bowing as they returned Shiro's good wishes. It was different.

Shiro was different.

He wanted to be wary, but he couldn't help but let himself relax as he continued to walk by this powerful man's side. This man, the baron of his castle, had offered Keith his jacket, had given him a high class room to bed in, and then clothes to wear on their way to breakfast. He was the type of man his mother had always spoke of, the type of man his Pa was. Granted, his Pa was a bit more gruff around the edges. Was.

"Your pendant is beautiful," Shiro remarked.

Keith looked up at him in confusion, hand clenching around the pendant. Oh. He hadn't even realized he had untucked it from his shirt. "Thanks," he pulled his vest out enough that he could slip the pendant back underneath.

He walked a bit faster, ignoring any look Shiro tried to send his way.

They continued down the halls until Shiro came to a stop. He raised his hands to open the doors, only to have them open from the other side. A women, shorter than himself, with blonde hair done down in pigtails, stood there. "Shi-" she glanced at Keith and grinned, "My lord."

"Morning, Romelle."

She held the door open for them, "I finished setting the table. Lady Allura is waiting for you." Something about her tone rubbed Keith the wrong way. It was as if she knew something they, he, didn't.

Shiro didn't seem bothered by it, thanking her as he walked by. Keith narrowed his eyes before following. Something was up.

"Wonderful!" Keith's head shot towards the voice. "When Shiro had told me about you, I knew I _had_ to meet you."

His eyes widened as he looked at her. She was- She was _beautiful_ . As if an angel had came down from heaven to sit at his table, blessing his presence. Her hair, white as snow, cascaded down her back, framing her slender body. Her bronze skin practically _glowed_ in the light coming in from the windows behind her.

"Keith, correct?" She was talking to him. An actual angel was talking to him.

"Uh. Yeah- Yeah, Keith."

Her laughter was like bells and bird song. How could someone be so alluring?

"Come, take a seat! Shiro talked quite liberally about you," she motioned towards the chairs, and Keith was helpless to comply. He barely noticed Shiro pull out a chair for him, his attention was solely on her.

Shiro cleared his throat, "Allura, you're... projecting a bit loud, don't you think?"

Allura frowned, and even that looked beautiful on her. Her eyes lit up in understanding, "Oh my- My apologies, Shiro. I truly hadn't realized."

Keith blinked, his head pounding suddenly. He didn't know what caused it, but Allura was directing a sheepish smile his way. "Drink some tea. It'll help."

A teacup was placed in front of him. He found it easier to turn away from Allura, giving Shiro a grateful smile. Shiro's own smile widened at the attention.

"So, Keith," Allura leaned forward, resting her chin on her entwined hands, "while we wait for our food, I heard you may or may not have drawn a knife on Shiro."

Keith inhaled sharply. Unluckily for him, he still had tea in his mouth. He coughed, hand coming up to his chest as his eyes began to water from the force of it.

"Keith!" Shiro was by his side in an instant, rubbing at his back.

A few moments passed of coughing, before Keith took a deep breath, giving Shiro a thumbs up. "'M good." He looked up at Allura, debating the most tactful way of going about answering her question. It wasn’t everyday he met the wife of the man he threatened with a knife. "Yes. I did."

Allura chuckled, leaning back in her chair, "I'm sure he deserved it. For such a large person, he has a tendency to... sneak."

Shiro shrugged, the smug smile on his face doing things to Keith's heart, "Guilty as charged."

"I swear, one time he snuck up on me... I slapped him so hard it left a mark for days."

Keith snorted, "I'll make sure to remember that next time I feel bad about drawing a knife on him."

"Next time?" Shiro looked at him as if scandalized while Allura let out a loud laugh.

"Oh, Shiro, you didn't tell me he was such a spitfire."

Keith hid his smile behind his teacup. He liked these two. They were quirky, for nobility, but they were... fun to talk to.

The doors opened, Romelle and another servant entering through them carrying covered platers. The smell of iron met Keith's nose, but he ignored it in favor of listening to Allura talk about the time Shiro had snuck up on a fellow noble, making the man scream. A tray was placed in front of him, the smell of iron more pungent, but still ignorable. It was as Keith laughed, as Romelle and the servant removed the tops off the platters, that Keith couldn't ignore it any more.

Shiro and Allura were still laughing, Allura saying something to Romelle, but all Keith could focus on was the swirling in his mind, in his stomach, the horrible ache in his body that was making itself known too soon. He couldn't get enough air, each breath bringing with it the unmistakable scent of blood.

It was all in his head. It was all in his head. But it wasn’t. In front of Allura was a meat of some sort. He couldn't- He couldn't identify it. It looked too round, too squishy, to be game meat. It was seared on the outside, covered in light seasoning, but it wasn't- it was- blood.

"Keith? Dear, is something wrong?" Allura's voice was full of concern and even Shiro was regarding him with a worried look. He didn't deserve their concern.

He gulped, swallowing around the lump in his throat. There was a beautiful spread set in front of him, pastries that at any other time he'd devour, a soup of some sort that was filled with vegetables, but he couldn't find the stomach to want them now. "I'm fine," he gritted out with a forced smile. He couldn't eat this. He couldn't. His stomach wanted something else now, something meatier, juicier, more _alive_.

"You might be getting ill from being out in the rain so long," Shiro suggested. Keith would give anything for that to be the reason.

"Yeah, must be," he said instead.

He gripped his fork like a lifeline. He could get through this. It was all in his head. He was the monster here, not these people, not these kind people.

Allura cut into the meat; Keith ran from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, you can come talk to me at [MizuLeKitten](https://mizulekitten.tumblr.com/) or simply wait for the next chapter!
> 
> I'm thinking of having small snippets with Shiro that take place at the end of each chapter, and maybe publishing them in between. That way we get a look at what's happening on the other side, and how little Keith truly knows.


	3. Twilight Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Keith wakes up, Shiro is there to offer his support. Everything feels like two steps forward, one step back, but it's progress nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a day late, s7 was still running through my bones xDD

He doesn't leave his room for the rest of the day. He striped down to his underclothes as soon as he could, snatching Shiro's vest up and putting it on (a comfort he was not going to question right now). He prayed the hungry ache in his stomach would subside. It hadn't even been a week since he had to leave the last town, and his body was already beginning to cry out for more. Normally he could go much longer before the ache settled in, before it began to threaten everything once again.

He didn't know  _ what _ was setting it off this time. There was no blood. There was none. It was all in his head and he was going insane. These people were kind to him. They were nobles but they blew all expectations out of the water. He couldn't bring death to their doors.

Even with that in mind, he couldn't bring himself to pack.

He'd been here not even a day, and he couldn't leave. He clutched himself tight, nails digging into the flesh of his arms despite the jacket covering him. It was like all the times before - he thought he could fit in, he tried to stick around, and he- he…

He bit at the back of his palm, breaking skin, but it wasn’t enough. His blood was no cure. There was another way to stave off the hunger, but he wasn't in the right mind to do so. There was too much guilt revolving around him, like a vortex not letting him leave. His pendant only weighed him down more. Even if he didn't have the blood haunting him, he'd always have this.

He removed the necklace from around his neck, holding the little thing in front of him. He remembered when his Ma gave it to him, smiling at him as she closed his hand around it.

_ "This way you'll always have us by your heart." _

The sob that came from his throat was involuntary. He held the locket close, his parents' pictures safe inside. He didn't dare look at them - he didn't deserve to after all he had done. He curled in around himself, body shaking with grief. It should be easier, yet every time he had to run from his crimes. it all came rushing back. His first kills. The first innocent lives he had taken.

His mother. His father.

~*~

When Keith woke up, the ache was gone, or as close to gone as it would be. It was ignorable, that's all that mattered. He looked down at himself, confusion plaguing his mind. How did he end up under the blankets?

He looked around, but none of his things were disturbed. The only thing that had been moved was, apparently, himself and the blankets. Maybe Shiro had come in to check on him? He hid his face under the blankets, flushing red.

What was he  _ thinking _ ? Shiro had a  _ wife _ , a beautiful wife at that, who was intelligent and witty and  _ perfect _ . Why would he care about the street rat that had pulled a knife on him on one occasion, and ran from his company at another? It was stupid. He must've gotten under the covers and simply was unable to recall it. Yeah. That was it.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed right as the door creaked open; Shiro poked his head through. He smiled when he met Keith's eyes. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and carried a tray to the desk holding Keith's supplies. He carefully set each item aside despite how little importance they held.

"I'm glad to see you awake. When you ran off this morning, I was worried," Shiro said innocently, as if things like this happened everyday. It made Keith's heart skip a beat, warmth flooding his system despite how much he willed it not to. "When I came to check on you, you were already asleep," he turned back with a soft smile, "it seemed like you needed it."

"Uh..." Keith didn't know what to say. No one ever cared for him like this, especially not nobles with more pressing concerns, such as, literally anything else.

Shiro chuckled, glancing back at the tray, "I brought you dinner. It's a simple soup and some bread. I figured your stomach might still be sensitive from this morning. If you're hungry..."

"A bit," he answered honestly. It wasn't the terrifying ache in his body, it was a simple,  _ normal _ hunger that he had felt at the prospect of breakfast this morning.

"Good. Get back in bed," Shiro made a shooing motion as Keith tried to get up. He grabbed the tray and brought it to Keith's side, settling it into his lap before sitting down next to him. "If you're still feeling queasy, I can ask Coran to look through our medicines."

Keith shook his head. He had tried medicines, all it had resulted in was him puking his guts out on one occasion, and nearly dying on another. "I should be good now. Probably just needed rest." He took a bite of the bread, eyes going wide before scarfing it down. How could they make  _ bread _ taste so good?

"Slow down there," he laughed as Keith snatched up another slice, "there's plenty more in the kitchens."

"You're showing me where the kitchens are after this," Keith pointed the piece of bread at Shiro threateningly, before tearing a bite from it. Heavenly…

"As you wish."

Keith slowed in his eating, savoring the taste. It was bread. It was soup. It was the best thing Keith had ever eaten. (Flesh, meat, the juicy insides of someone's liver-  _ No _ . Bread. Soup. Soup with bits of carrots and potatoes. Nothing else.)

"Thank you for," Keith paused. Everything? He couldn't just say that, too loaded, gave Shiro too much power if things went south.  _ If _ they went south because of Shiro; at this rate, it was a higher chance of Keith fucking things up. "Thanks for the meal."

"My pleasure, Keith." Shiro glanced to the bedside table, head tilting in curiosity. "You journal?"

Keith swallowed a bit of soup, turning to look where Shiro was looking. "Drawing, actually."

"Oh?" Shiro didn't make a move to grab the book, simply giving it one last glance before giving his attention back to Keith, "Do you have a specific muse?"

Keith shrugged, "I like nature." He had drawn people on occasion, but most of the time it felt odd. He wouldn't mind drawing Shiro, though…

"It seems fitting that you have such a great view of them, then," Shiro tilted his head towards the windows, where the garden laid sprawled below. "I'd love to show them to you."

"You have time now?" Keith found himself boldly asking. He was hardly this forward with requests, but Shiro seemed to bring out the best and worst in him. The sun had only start to set, they could take a walk easily without a lantern - well, Shiro could.

"For you, all the time in the world."

Keith flushed, hiding behind the teacup Shiro had brought with him. It was just a meaningless throw-away line. That was all. Shiro was married, happily married.

He placed the tray to the side, nodding to Shiro. "Let me get dressed, and I'm all yours."

~*~

The shrubs surrounding the garden were high, higher than even Shiro, but there was a small gate in between them that Shiro opened with a smile. "After you," he said with a wave of his hand. Keith didn't mind going first this once.

He took a step in, not knowing what to expect, but not even his imagination couldn’t come up with this. Sure, he had seen the garden from his room, but he hadn't looked at it long. He didn't have a real basis. Now that he was up front and center, he was frozen.

It was  _ beautiful _ .

The hedges within were smaller, but no less extravagant. Some were shaped into small balls, surrounding a marble fountain that shot water high into the air. The setting sun reflected off the bits, creating sparkling designs around them that settled onto the sandy path. Other shrubs were raised, creating paths that branched out from the center mass. Flowers of pinks, purples, and blues lined the path. Keith ran his hand over the taller ones, basking in the beauty the light brought out. There were two stone benches in this particular spot, and despite their pale colors, they fit right in.

"Like it?" Shiro came up to his side, looking out over the garden with a satisfied smile.

"Yeah," Keith's voice came out in a breathless whisper. He had never gotten into landscaping, couldn't afford to, but he had always admired those who did. He loved looking at households that had plants hanging from the ceiling, or set out on their window. It added a touch of home to each place he stayed. Not that it ever was home.

"This way," Shiro gently grabbed his arm, tugging at it once before walking ahead, "I want to show you something."

Keith followed without a second thought. The paths diverging off from the center were no less beautiful than their starting point. The hedges had been trimmed to dip and dive as waves, and there were spots along the way with bunches of flowers, an explosion of colors. It made him want to sit down with his sketchbook and draw them all. If he had paints, he'd commemorate each one with the detail they deserved.

Shiro paused, turning back with a smile as he pointed down another path. At the end was a small gazebo, something Keith had never seen up close. "If you ever need a break, that's a good spot to take tea."

Keith nodded, before glancing back up at Shiro, "That's not what you wanted to show me, though. Is it?"

The grin Shiro shot him made shivers run down his spine, pooling in his gut, renewing the ache.

It took them several more minutes to get to their destination, the sun beginning to dip beneath the tree line. They paused in front of a large hedge, one of the ones that followed the outside of the garden. Keith looked around in confusion - there was nothing remarkable about the spot. It was like the rest of the paths, flowers littered here and there with an occasional bench. It was beautiful, all of it was, but nothing  _ special _ .

Shiro looked back at him with a wicked smile. He pressed a finger to his lips as he reached into the hedge. What the hell was he doing? It was a hedge. It had branches inside it and leaves. He couldn't help but scowl; it made no sense.

Shiro's eyes nearly sparkled in the setting light as he pushed the hedge open and into a small enclosure. Keith could only stare in shock.

Flowers wound their way up the hedges walls, somehow not coming through the other side. More flowers lined the ground in a circle, organized by height and color in a way that must've taken  _ days _ to accomplish. The center of the area was left bare, only plush grass filling the space.

"Only my gardener and I know about this place. I like to come here to... escape," Shiro spoke the words softly, brushing up against Keith's side and settling there.

"It's beautiful," and he was being honest. It was. He could easily see himself coming here and laying down in the grass, soaking up the sun as his worries melted away for the time being. This place could also easily be the background of a drawing, a nice place to coop up as he put pencil to paper and  _ went _ . He looked up at Shiro, one major question nagging at his brain, "Why show me this?"

"I thought you'd like it."

That couldn't be it, but Shiro made no move to further explain himself. First his jacket, then a nice room, and finally this. He didn't understand. He had been here two days, and had spent most of that time asleep. Shiro had no reason to show him all of this.

"That's not the only reason," Keith said, aggravation growing in place of appreciation. This didn't make sense.

"It is, though," Shiro turned to him, staring him down with an intense gaze that Keith met in kind.

"Bullshit."

He didn't care that he was sounding ungrateful. He didn't care if this got him kicked out. He was getting to the bottom of this right here, right now, even if it killed him. Nobles weren't nice like this, even if Shiro and Allura defied that expectation more often than not. He didn't understand them. He didn't understand why Shiro was showing him this, he didn't understand why Allura so easily laughed off the knife incident, he didn't understand.

Shiro was nice, sure, but why was he being  _ this  _ nice. This place was personal, a jacket, a meal, a room, those weren’t. A garden only three people know about, none of them including Shiro’s wife? No. People didn't act like this without ulterior motives, and he  _ needed _ to know Shiro's.

Shiro sighed, as if tired, as if  _ he _ had been the one forced from his home in terror and blood, as if he had run time and time again from places he had begun to think would stick because  _ he _ fucked something up, as if  _ he _ had a right to be tired. "There is no other reason, Keith. I wanted to see you happy after a troubling two days," as if he knew what Keith's struggles were, "so I brought you here."

Keith scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked away. No one did anything for Keith out of kindness. The only people who did ended up dead. His grip tightened around his arms, nails digging into flesh, threatening to give way. If Shiro really was this nice without fault, he glanced back towards the man (who was looking over the garden now) then Keith would end up killing him. One of his hands drifted up, brushing against his pendant.

He wanted to stay angry, he did, but... there was no basis for anger. Shiro was showing him kindness, and not for the first time. To get angry at him was rude, even if he knew how this story would end. He should- He should leave. He had said he was a traveler, and he should make good on the name. Travele, leave, get out, get away before he caused more harm.

"I-" I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm being so rude when all you've been is nice. I'm sorry that I'm still here, sorry I'm still taking up your time. I'm sorry for returning every gesture with a snap. There were so many things to apologize for. He toed at the earth, digging his shoe into it. He took a deep breath, looking Shiro in the eye, "Thank you."

"I've told you before, Keith," Shiro's voice was soft, melting in with the setting sun. It made him look softer, less large and in charge, more caring and loving. "It's my pleasure."

His breath hitched at the admission. The way the words were said - it spoke of something more that Keith didn't understand. They'd barely known each other for long, and it sounded like Shiro was pledging himself to Keith. He watched Shiro pluck a flower from a bush - a rose, a bright crimson that had Keith's head swirling with a mix of confusion and memories. It had him frozen in place as Shiro approached him. He brought his hand up, brushing it through Keith's hair. His eyes were wide as saucers, watching Shiro's every move but not stopping any of it. When he pulled his hand back, the rose was gone.

It was tucked behind his ear.

"Perfect," his smile made Keith's heart do summersaults. "We should head back now; it's getting late."

Keith could only nod and watch as Shiro walked ahead. His hand came up to touch at the rose. The petals were soft. He followed Shiro back in a soft daze. He was grateful Shiro doesn't try and start conversation; Keith didn't know if he'd be able to respond.

~*~

Keith was sitting in the middle of his bed, legs crossed in front of him, sketchbook open to a blank page, and the rose in his hands. He twirled it in his grip, watching the petals shake and flare as he did so. There was a subtle tickle at the back of his neck, like he was being watched, but he ignored it. He was too confused to listen to it. Plus, how could anyone be watching him? He was on the third floor of a castle, and night had fallen outside. He had a lone candle sitting next to him, but besides that, there was nothing but him, his sketchbook, and the rose.

The rose that Shiro gave him.

Did this make them friends? Was it a way of Shiro acknowledging Keith's unsaid apology with his own unsaid thanks? He didn't know. He didn't understand.

The ache in his gut cut into his mindless twirling of the rose. It sent a jolt of fear up his spine, and he had to take a deep breath to center himself. It was only in his gut, it had yet to spread throughout the rest of his body. They were safe, for now.

He closed the sketchbook, setting it on the bedside table, and placing the rose on top. There was one way to ensure that they would stay safe for a little longer, even if it was only a day or two (aside from straight up leaving, which he still couldn't bring himself to do.)

He shimmied out of his pants and shirt, throwing them to the side without care. He sat there in only his underwear, scooching up the bed. He stretched, reveling in the pops that it earned, before relaxing back against the headboard.

He lightly traced his fingers along his neck, shivering at the sensation and shifting down into the mattress more. His fingers danced over his collarbone dipping lower to circle around one of his nipples. He couldn't help but sigh at the familiar actions. He didn't tease himself there for long, only until his nipples had hardened and he could feel heat stirring below.

His hand dipped lower, legs parting as he goes. He hesitated for only a second before he was running his hand down his cock. Heat sparked from his fingertips as his cock starts to harden. It was good. He hadn't touched himself like this in awhile, too long. He let out a shaky sigh, the tingling at the back of his neck being replaced by that of pleasurable heat. He stroked himself through the cloth, basking in the way it felt, knowing it would feel so much better when he removes his underwear.

The temptation to tease himself was there, but he had always been bad at waiting. The actions may be nice, but they were not enough. He practically ripped his underwear off, shivering at the cool air on his hot skin. It made his pussy and cock  _ throb _ . There was no teasing tonight. He was doing this to help protect the others not- not to get off or…

" _ Fuck _ ." His pussy lips were so sensitive. All it took was one swipe of his fingers through the dampness there for his body to twitch and buck. He circled his finger around his entrance, his other hand stroking slowly at the base of his cock. The ache in his stomach was easily overtaken by heat. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, allowing him to truly enjoy what he was doing. The pleasure was delicious in all the right ways, and he dipped his finger into his entrance as he slid his hand up his cock.

He tilted his head back, a low moan falling from his lips as he pumped his finger in and out. He had needed this, needed to let himself relax. His cock throbbed in his hand, spurring him on. He bucked into the grip, letting a true moan fall from his lips. Good, so good. He was panting, eyes falling closed as he continued working himself up, as pleasure continued to swirl in his gut. It built and built. He was close, so close, teetering on the edge.

Shiro's face flashed through his mind as his back bowed, and he came with a loud moan. Shockwaves explode out from his gut, streaming through his body and making him shake. He slumped back against the pillows, loose limbed and sated. The ache within his gut was gone, for now, his mind in a pleasurable haze.

He turned on his side, knowing he should clean up, but not caring at the moment. He could do that in a minute or two. He was relaxed, truly relaxed, for the first time since he ran from the village.

Shiro's jacket was settled beside him. He reached for it without thinking, pulling it to his chest and burying his face within the soft material. Guilt could come later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about a season huh? I should be on schedule now xD Next update on the 18th
> 
> Wanna talk? MizuLeKitten I'd be happy to :3


	4. Elevators and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romelle isn't as bad as Keith thinks, and he gets to say he rode an elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came back and added a bit*****
> 
> I'm going to say so next chapter, in case people missed but

The plan of the day? Explore the castle. Not the plan of the day? Literally running into Romelle as they both rounded a corner.

He rubbed his forehead with a groan, "Fuck..." The collision had sent him falling onto his backside, a painful throbbing in his skull and butt.

Romelle wasn't doing much better, sprawled across from him with a frown. "Watch where you're going," she muttered, sending a small glare his way.

"Could say the same to you," Keith met her glare as he got to his feet. He hadn't known what to think of her when they first met in passing, but now he was sure that they wouldn't get alo-

She burst out laughing, startling Keith. Why- Why was she laughing? She stood up, mirth clear on her face as she smiled at him. "You really are a spitfire."

What?

"When Shiro talked about you, I- I didn't believe it entirely,” she brushed herself off, oblivious to Keith’s confusion, “but no, he was right.”

"Shiro talks about me?" Keith blurted out, surprise and... hope(?) building inside him. It was stupid, Shiro was nobility, was _married._

"Well, yeah," Romelle rolled her eyes, "Why wouldn't he?"

There were plenty of reasons why, and it must have shown on his face because Romelle was laughing again.

"It's not often we get someone who pulls a knife on him," she said as she walked by him, motioning for him to follow. "It's kinda the talk of the staff."

Keith's face heated up as he stayed a step behind Romelle, "I- I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry about it," she waved her hand, "I was shocked when I first heard it, of course. It's _never_ happened before. Most people who come by are to in awe of Shiro and Allura to pull anything like that. They're all _Oh, if it isn't the benevolent Shirogane_ or _Lady Shirogane, you're so accomplished despite being a woman, what's your secret,_ " her pitch changed to suit the mockery before she stuck her tongue out, "Bleh. It's so annoying."

Keith scowled, "It sounds like it." He'd hate to have people sucking up to him like that, so obviously trying to get on his good side. He already hated nobility (minus Shiro and Allura), and that'd only secure his dislike of them.

"It really is. Parties are the _worst_. Especially the winter solstice party. So many people flirt and suck up to her despite the fact that she's mi-married," Keith's head cocked to the side in confusion, but she continued on. "It's like no one respects the sanctity of marriage now-a-days."

"Yeah, I guess.” He was one of those people, wasn’t he? Having a crush on Shiro, thinking about him in… certain less than innocent ways. He was part of the problem...

"Anyways!" she spun around, pulling Keith from his spiraling thoughts as she walked backwards down the hall, "Where were you off to?"

"Wandering," he replied honestly. He knew where the gardens were, but aside from that he knew nothing. It seemed like a good way to preoccupy his time, and figure out the layout of the castle. His attempt at memorizing the set up earlier had failed miserably, and he needed to make up for lost time (or he could simply leave, like he should have done the day before).

She smiled, "It's a big place, isn't it," he nodded. It was. "When me and my brother first arrived here several years ago, we were taken aback by it all. You could fit a whole village in here-"

"And have room to spare."

"Exactly! - We explored every nook and cranny that we could. I loved it here, so while my brother went out to find his calling, I stuck around. And then, down the line," she turned back around as they turned a corner, "Allura hired me."

"Why would she do that?" he asked. His eyes widened in alarm. Fuck, too blunt. "I didn't-"

"No, I get that,” she waved her hand, “I was suspicious of the nobility too when I got here, but Allura is great, Shiro too. I know you're traveling, but if you're looking for a place to settle down, this is it."

Keith frowned, gaze falling to the crimson carpet. While the color didn't thrust him back into memories of pain, it was still a constant reminder. Even though he wanted to stay, he couldn't. He'd do something eventually, kill, and be on the run again.

Romelle glanced back at him, frowning, before her eyes lit up, "How about I show you around? You haven't been here long, so I can show you the kitchen, and where the other servants and people stay."

"I'd like that."

~*~

Romelle had to leave eventually, to grab new linen for Allura, but that didn't mean he was going to stop exploring. She had only showed him around the servants quarters after all, and Keith _knew_ there was more to the castle than that. He took off in the opposite direction of where he had been shown - there was still the left wing of the castle to explore before traveling up the stairs.

She had also mentioned a stable, and he was keen to check it out if he had time.

Keith was relatively disappointed in what he found. A large lounge, meant to entertain numerous people at once, and several smaller lounges. Relatively disappointing, even if the décor was pretty to look at. Where was the library Romelle mentioned? Sinking his teeth into a good book, even if his reading skills weren't that good, would be nice. He loved when his father read to him, teaching him what he could, what he had learned before. Those were good times.

Keith fiddled with his pendant as he continued down the halls, looking out the windows as he went. A spark of electricity ran up his spine, and his gaze returned to the halls he wandered. The place seemed darker, gloomier, the lights spread with more distance between each one, natural sunlight being filtered away by _something_. Something had changed in the air, leaving Keith on edge, filling him with nervous energy. He didn't stop. Each step forward made his hair stand up higher.

The end of the hallway was dark, he could still make out the two large doors that stood there, blocking the way. He ran his hands along the wood; the entrance to the den of a beast. It was the only thing this feeling reminded him of. It was as if he was the helpless lamb, the sacrifice given to keep the foul creature at bay.

No. He was no lamb. Keith grit his teeth, he'd never be a lamb.

He pushed the doors open, ignoring the instincts telling him to _run_. There was no basis for the instincts, no reason to be feeling them. Sure, this wing of the castle was dark, but the people here were a light. He had no reason to be so on edge, no reason to run.

The room was awash in red light, eliciting a gasp. He closed his eyes, fighting against the thoughts running rampant in his head. It wasn't blood. It was not blood. It was red light, simply red light.

He opened his eyes once more, entering the room one step at a time. The room was lined with pillars, the damned crimson carpet still there. It led straight up to... a cage of some sort? It was a large metal box, cables attaching to the top. He walked towards it, letting his mind move away from pain and to figuring out what this thing was. He'd never seen anything like it before.

"It's an elevator."

Keith whipped around towards the doors, relaxing unconsciously when he noticed it was Shiro. "A friend of mine reverse engineered it from the one he saw at the palace," Shiro continued as he walked forward, "He needed a place to test it out, so," he motioned towards the "elevator" with his hand, "voila."

Each step that brought Shiro closer sent Keith's heart pounding. His body was tensing up again, as Shiro became awash in red. It sent his barely in control mind reeling towards possibilities, images of Shiro covered in blood, not light. He gulped, averting his eyes from Shiro as he came closer. It was wrong, horribly wrong, and the ache was starting to make itself known again.

Shiro stopped beside him, "Have you ever seen one before?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

Keith swallowed around the lump in his throat, shaking his head, "No. Never."

The ache felt almost... different this time. It wasn't a hunger for flesh, not in the way that Keith normally ached. It was tinged with something new.

"It leads down into the dungeons, but I'd be willing to operate it for you."

"Really?" Part of Keith not panicking over the ache was genuinely curious. He hadn't even known what an elevator was a moment ago. If he focused on that, his curiosity, maybe the ache would die away.

"Of course, then you can tell everyone you meet that you've been in one. Impress them," Shiro smiled at him.

Keith snorted, "That's not really high on my list of priorities."

"Yet you're still good at it." Keith blinked up at him in confusion. Shiro's smile was smaller, private, as he gestured back to the elevator, "So?"

"Uh, sure. If you, uh, if you want to."

"I'd love to," the words were spoken with an intense honestly that left Keith reeling. Shiro turned away from him, unaware of the whiplash he was giving Keith. Wasn't he- Wasn't he married? Words. They were just words. Shiro was charming, and Keith was simply on the receiving end of that charm for now. For now.

Shiro opened the metal gate leading into the elevator, a folder of some sort tucked under his arm as he held it open so that Keith could step in. It bobbed as he entered, and he grasped Shiro's arm to steady himself. "Is this- Is this safe?"

"I use it daily," Shiro said, taking a set of keys from under his vest. He put it into a keyhole, on the bottom of a box jutting into the elevator. Keith leaned forward, still holding onto Shiro, as he watched.

The key turned, and the elevator grumbled, shaking and creaking up a storm that had Keith holding on tighter to Shiro. After everything he had been through, he was going to die in an elevator, clinging to Shiro.

Not a bad way to go.

Keith frowned to himself - he really needed to start curbing his thoughts before they got even more ridiculous. He knew Shiro for only a few days, he was married. If that wasn't enough to stop his rampaging mind, the fact that, if Keith stayed close, he'd probably _kill_ Shiro should be enough to drive him away. But no. He continued to hold Shiro's arm as he looked up at the walls. The walls that were... moving?

He looked around him, the walls were moving on _all_ sides. What? "How are we- What is-" He looked up at Shiro, who was smiling at him, "We're moving."

"Yeah. I'm not entirely sure how it works, but it has to do with the cables moving us. We're going down."

Keith took a step forward, hand falling away from Shiro's arm as he gawked at the rock. It was moving by them. No. It wasn't moving, they were. "This is amazing!"

He moved closer, trying to peer down through the gap to see where they were going when Shiro tugged him back, "Careful. Don't get to close; you'll hurt yourself."

Keith looked back with a serious nod. Okay. Stay away from the walls. Not too close. He wasn't immune to pain, but... damn, this was so cool! He had never heard of elevators before, and apparently there was one at the palace? And Shiro had one? He couldn't help but grin. They were in a room that _moved_.

The elevator slowed, settling against the ground with a rattle. He was practically vibrating with excitement, previous thoughts forgotten as Shiro opened the gate, allowing Keith to step out. His grin was a permanent feature as he looked back at Shiro. "It can go back up, right?"

Shiro nodded, clearly amused, "Up and down are its specialties."

Keith laughed, up _and_ down. Wow. "That's- I can't believe it. That's amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it."

Like it? Keith loved it. He had never gotten into science, his father couldn't read those books, and they couldn't get _ahold_ of those books. They were for scholars, not farmers, but Keith had still learned about new inventions from travelers during farmers markets, had listened with wide eyes and an open mind as they told him and the other kids everything they knew…

He took a deep breath, musk and mold clear as day, but not enough to make his smile fade. He feels giddy, feels like sharing something about himself, "I loved learning about stuff, from people who traveled through my town."

Shiro's eyes widened before settling down into a small smile, "Really?"

"Yeah. I- I can't read well, but they always explained things despite it. Some even had books and they'd show me the pictures, how things work. I always wanted to be able to read those books," he looked at the elevator with a smile, "but being able to experience science is way better than reading it."

Shiro laughed at that, "I sympathize with you there. I read up on a lot of this, but... Nothing really compares to living it."

Keith nodded, "Yeah."

Shiro watched him for a moment, "Do you- Do you want to learn to read better?" Keith's head whipped around to face him, "You- You mentioned _wanting_ to read, so I can take time to help you get better."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure, if you want."

"I'd- Yeah. That'd be great."

Shiro beamed at him, "Wonderful! I need to put these documents in the office down here, but then we can head on up," he started to walk forward, leading the way down the barely lit halls. Not that it was an issue to Keith.

"Why do you need documents in the dungeons?" Keith couldn't help but ask as he walked in step with the other.

"We keep records of the criminals we keep here. Most towns have their own holding cells, but for those who are more dangerous, they'll be brought here until the Royal Guards can come and retrieve them." Dangerous... like Keith. He gulped as Shiro continued, "We had a couple in here last week, and I got the last of the paperwork done a few minutes ago. Since the elevator is locked-" Shiro paused in front of a door, taking his keys back out to unlock it, "-and so is the office, it's safe to keep the documents down here."

The door swung open, leading into a small office. Shiro walked towards the desk, not noticing Keith go off balance.

His hand came up to cover his mouth and nose, adrenaline pumping through his veins at the scent. It was like being at breakfast all over again, a lingering scent of blood that was obvious enough that Keith couldn't ignore. Shiro opened a drawer, filtering through other files as Keith backed up against the wall. The ache was painful in his gut, demanding his attention. The scent was so _strong_ . He didn't- He didn't understand it. This was an _office_ . Yes, they were in the dungeons, but the actual dungeon part had done _nothing_ to his body.

He gagged, head swimming with pressure. It shouldn't be this strong. He- He had killed five days ago, he had masturbated last night. It shouldn't be so _loud_ yet.

"Keith-" Why couldn't he escape it? Why couldn't he outrun it? - " _Keith_!"

Keith's eyes snapped to Shiro's, the other was kneeling beside him, hand on his shoulder and eyes full of concern. "Keith, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I- Can we- can we leave?" Now?

Shiro nodded, draping Keith's arm around his shoulder as he got them both to their feet. When had Keith fell to the floor? "Okay. Let's go; I got you."

Even when they left the room, the scent of blood and pain lingered on their clothes, lingered in his nose. He did not enjoy the elevator ride up, as much as he had enjoyed it going down.

~*~

Keith stumbled forward, barely caught by Shiro as they exited the elevator. He kept his eyes closed as his body ached and moaned at him. He couldn't look at the red lighting; he couldn't. He was grateful Shiro was guiding him, but it did nothing to alleviate the sudden weight in his legs. Fighting back the ache always made him feel like this eventually, dragging him down until it gave him a burst of energy. When that burst of energy comes, so would the blood.

Fuck.

He could still resist it. He had to. He could usually survive longer than this, a month at least. Sure, he was near catatonic by the end of it, but at least he could keep it at bay. His last meal wasn't that long ago; he could still taste it on the back of his tongue, the metallic taste soothing his throat. He groaned, head pounding as he fell to his knees. Why was this happening? He shouldn't- He shouldn't be feeling like this, he shouldn't be _wanting_ this.

"Kei-" static filled his ears. Why was blood haunting him in this castle? There was no reason. _No_ reason. He was never haunted like this. Sure, he had dreams of the people he had hurt, where they begged and pleaded for him to leave them alone, to turn away. His mother’s screams haunted them the most.

Dreams he had grown used to, the scent of blood, so real that it lingers? That didn't happen this frequently, not like this.

"Keith!" His eyes found Shiro's concerned greys boring into his. He opened his mouth, _Shiro_ , but no sound came out.

His gaze wandered; Shiro was so close. He could _hear_ his heartbeat, rhythmic, a drum….

He was being lifted, brought closer to Shiro's pulse. The skin of his neck was taunt, veins so clear, so inviting. _No!_ He shook his head, vision swimming with the action. He- He couldn't hurt Shiro. He _couldn't_. God, his stomach hurt. The ache was spreading, weighing him down and making it hard to move. It was never this intense.

Darkness crept along the edges of his vision, shadows playing with his mind as Shiro rushed them down the hall.

"Shi...ro," Keith forced out. Run. Run away. Get away from me. Please. Please don't stay. His mouth wouldn't form the words, wouldn't let him warn his tentative friend of what was coming. It always happened like this.

The heartbeats around him drew him under; he could hear them all, could feel them moving by as they listened to Shiro. It left him salivating, so much life in one place, so ready to be plucked from their chests.

He shifted closer to Shiro, inhaling his scent. Divine. He could spend hours like this, basking in the scent of pine, the forest after a rain, the lingering scent of _blood_.

The pulse stuttered underneath his tongue as he traced along one of the veins. So easy to rip into, to devour. The fastest way to get to the life inside... But then Shiro would be dead. He didn’t want Shiro to die.... The ache became more of a simmering heat, slowly boiling in his gut.

He was placed down on something soft, plush, he hadn't even realized they were still moving. He didn't care. Shiro was pulling away, and that wasn't something he could not allow. His grip on Shiro's arm turned into iron, strength returning to his limbs as the ache sang to him. He wasn't letting Shiro go. Shiro was _his_.

He was saying something, but Keith didn't care. Words shouldn't be coming out of that mouth. He tugged Shiro down with a surprising amount of strength and sealed their lips together.

 _Yes_.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end! I'm going to update weekly, which puts the next update the day after s7 drops... which will be an event to say the least xD
> 
> You can come talk to me over on tumblr at [MizuLeKitten](https://mizulekitten.tumblr.com/). I plan on posting some stuff from Shiro's POV as we go (lil ficlets), just cause I can, so that'll be posted on my tumblr and also to the series, so its really up to you.
> 
> Much thanks for reading!


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